


The Bella's MVP

by orphan_account



Series: New Year's Day 2017 [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: AU, Crossover, F/F, F/M, Gen, Multiship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9210191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Written for the prompt:Prompt III: Game of Thrones/Pitch Perfect aka Autumn Blooms Universe. Set-Up: Becca figured that with her luck she’d get a roommate with some weird quirks however what she wasn’t prepared for the fact that hers was an unrepentant matchmaker. Or the 5 times when Sansa Stark was quite possibly the best wing-man in the universe and the one time the Bella’s were hers.





	

Sansa stood on the curb, watching her mother pull away, with her younger siblings hollering dumb stuff out the window of the Stark family minivan.  She gave them one last big smile, and then paused, taking in her surroundings.  Barden may not be the greatest college in the country, but it sure did have the look and feel of what she’d imagined every time she fantasized about going to college.  The brick dorms, the people playing frisbee on the quad, the whole deal.

A yellow cab pulled up with a cute brunette inside, alone.  Alone.  That would not do.

A car pulled up alongside with a boy in back, who was blaring that stupid Kansas song and singing along really loudly, trying to get the brunette’s attention.  Sansa decided she’d better give the girl an out in case she didn’t want to entertain that goofy boy.  She knocked on the window of the cab.  “Hey!” she said brightly.

The girl seemed confused.  “Uh, hi.”  She glanced around Sansa and then back at her.  “You… are you like, an RA or something?”

Sansa shook her head.  “No.  But that goofy boy in the car next to you was trying to get your attention.  I have a thing about boys hitting on girls from moving cars.  Just figured I’d give you an out if you wanted one.”

The brunette looked her over, and then gave her a half-smile.  “Thanks.”  She clambered out and walked around to the trunk to take out her suitcases.  Sansa walked around and helped her, and they watched the cab pull away.  Sansa hauled one of the suitcases up to the curb and parked it beside hers.  “I’m Sansa.”

The brunette looked surprised.  “Sansa Stark?”

Sansa nodded.  “Um, yeah.”

The brunette stuck her hand out.  “Beca Mitchell.  I’m your roommate.”  She looked Sansa over once and then nodded approvingly.  “And apparently you’re already the world’s best wingman.”

*****

Since Cersei was her stepmother, Sansa was automatically a Bella due to the group’s legacy policy.  But she had every right to be there, and could just as easily been accepted by the two mixed-gender groups on campus.  She felt so sorry for Aubrey; she’d never met anyone so tightly wound, with the possible exception of Cersei, before she’d come out to herself and fallen in love with Sansa’s mother.  

That was what Aubrey needed, Sansa realized.  She sighed heavily.  She’d taken on bigger projects, but not many.  However, the answer was as obvious in Aubrey’s case as it had been in Cersei Lannister’s:  she needed a warm, caring, sexually ambiguous redhead to love her.  Cersei had needed Sansa’s mother.  Aubrey needed Chloe.  

Sansa had seen the way Chloe looked at Aubrey sometimes when she thought nobody was watching.  Clearly, that wasn’t who she had to work on.  She found an excuse to go visit Aubrey at a time when she knew Chloe was in class.  She brought lemon cookies.  Aubrey would eat them without guilt because they were light and not so sinful.

“Aubrey,” she began tactfully.  “I… hope you don’t see this as me talking out of turn, but… well, I just wondered.”

“What, Sansa?” Aubrey prompted her, irritated already.

“Well, I just wondered … is Chloe … available?”

Aubrey looked at her as if she were foolish.  “Really, Sansa?  You’re a freshman.  She’s completely out of your league.”

“Oh, of course!”  Sansa exclaimed.  “I wasn’t asking for myself.”

Aubrey looked at her, clearly not buying it.  With a raised eyebrow, she demanded, “Then who?  Not one of those little Treble friends of yours.”

Sansa shook her head vigorously.  “Of course not!  I know the rules about Trebles.”

“So?  Then who?”

“Well, just … you know … someone nice.  Someone pretty.  Who appreciates what a loving, supportive person she can be.  Someone who wants to naturally encourage her to be her best.  You know.  Just… in general.”

Aubrey frowned at her.  Sansa saw the wheels already turning behind Aubrey’s eyes.  

“Anyway,”  Sansa said briskly, getting up, “I was just thinking that I’d really like to see her with the right person.  Probably the right girl, don’t you think?”  She gave Aubrey a small smile.

It took half of first semester to nudge her into Chloe’s arms.  Worth every plate of lemon cookies  she spent on it.

*****

Stacy was a challenge, but Sansa knew what she was dealing with.  Stacy slept around because she got bored.  Sansa knew one person who would definitely not be boring.  

“Are you kidding me?” Beca yawned.  “Why are you talking to me about this at six thirty in the morning, Sansa?”  She turned over and tried to pull the blankets over her head.

But once Sansa Stark got an idea in her head, it burned there until she could make it reality.  “Come on, it would work!”

“It’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.  There’s nothing gay about Stacy.”

“Yes there is,” Sansa answered firmly.  “She just doesn’t know it yet.”

Beca groaned.  “But with Cynthia Rose?  You’re out of your mind.”

“No, I’m right.  She won’t get bored with Cynthia Rose.  It’s happening.  And you’re helping me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.  I’m not letting you go back to sleep till you agree to help me.”

Beca groaned again.  “Fine.  What do I have to do?”

“Just set Cynthia Rose up to be ready to catch that fruit when it drops into her lap.”

“She’s not a fruit.”

Beca was proven wrong.  Stacy didn’t really require much beyond some strong suggestion and the right selection of internet porn.  By the time the Bellas were going to the semifinals, Cynthia and Stacy were a couple.  The worst part about that was Cynthia’s neighbors needed earplugs sometimes.

*******

Beca may have been the one to save the Bellas musically that year, but when it came to matchmaking, Sansa had been their MVP.  She set up Cynthia and Stacy, she nudged Chloe and Aubrey together, and then once she’d accomplished that, she’d nudged Beca into the situation for a comfortable three that supported and complemented one another perfectly.  She kept Fat Amy furnished with enough boys to keep her too busy to respond to Bumper’s relentless pursuit.  And she’d managed to find Lilly a harem.  Boys AND girls.  Sometimes they carried her around on a litter.  That one had taken some doing.  

So it stood to reason that sooner or later, the Bellas were going to return the favor.  After Sansa’s heartbreak with Komisar during her semester in Germany, a knot of Bellas descended on Westeros to help out their girl, who was nursing her wounds for the summer.  

Beca spotted the Tyrell girl from halfway across the L&L diner, giving Sansa the eye.  She was a knockout in cutoffs, with long hair and just a little too much cleavage spilling out of that tank top.  She looked exactly like what Sansa needed right now?

“Psst,” she said, nudging Sansa, who was staring into her milkshake.  “Who’s that?”

Sansa glanced up.  “Oh, that’s Margy Tyrell.  She runs the flower shop.”

“Well,” Chloe said, “she was just looking at you like you’re a peach pie.”

Sansa snorted.  “Please.  She doesn’t know me from Adam.”

“No, but she clearly would like to,”  Aubrey responded.  “I’m going to go talk to her.”

Sansa grabbed Aubrey’s wrist in panic.  “No!”

But Aubrey got up and was halfway across the room in seconds.  She struck up a conversation with Margaery, about who knew what.  A moment later, that sexy flower girl was parking herself across from Sansa and the Bellas were excusing themselves.  Sansa was stammering like an idiot the entire time, yet somehow, she had a date that Friday night.

The next night, Sansa and Beca were standing around the car outside the theater, waiting to pick Sansa’s mother up from rehearsal.  A big blond woman was outside, fiddling with her toolbelt as she loaded some woodworking equipment into the truck.  Apparently, she was part of a small crew doing some restoration work on the old place.

“That big blond is checking you out,” Beca whispered.

“No she’s not,” Sansa whispered back.

Beca leaned to the side, and saw the steel toed work boots the woman wore.  “Hey!”  she called.

Sansa elbowed her.  “Shut up!” she hissed.

“My friend likes your work boots.”

The blond nodded politely at Sansa.  Sansa blushed.  “I wore ones just like them when I worked crew on My Fair Lady at school last year.”

The blond’s face lit up, and she sauntered over.  Her name was Brienne.  Beca made herself scarce.  Sansa had another date.

By July, Sansa was seeing both of them.  By August, the three of them were what Olenna Tyrell referred to as “a couple or a throuple or whatever in hell you want to call it.”  After years of meddling, Sansa had finally gotten a taste of her own medicine.  And the flavor was quite welcome.


End file.
